


fever dream high

by banesapothecary (komhmagnus)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: David Rose's Sweaters, Established Relationship, Honeymoon, M/M, Not Sure Why I Wrote This, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 15:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komhmagnus/pseuds/banesapothecary
Summary: Patrick rolls his eyes. “David, we’re near the equator in the dead of summer. I’d prefer it if my husband didn’t die of heat stroke in the middle of our honeymoon.”





	fever dream high

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift (stream Lover folks ✌)

“Okay, what the hell is this?” David’s voice is loud and distressed, but any worry tightening Patrick’s chest dissipates when he glances over to see his husband  _ (his husband!) _ rummaging through their luggage. He lifts a black and white striped t-shirt out of the suitcase and holds it away from his body with the tips of his fingers, as if afraid the light cotton might be infectious.

“A t-shirt, David,” Patrick answers. “People wear them when it’s hot outside.”

“Mhm,” David nods stiffly. “And I am not one of those people, so what is  _ this _ doing in here instead of my sweaters?” He shakes the shirt for emphasis before dropping it to the bed with a look of disgust on his face.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “David, we’re near the equator in the dead of summer. I’d prefer it if my husband didn’t die of heat stroke in the middle of our honeymoon.”

David looks torn for a moment, like he can’t decide if he should be upset or swooning. Patrick grins as he watches the face journey, always enamoured by David’s dramatics. David settles on a pout, but Patrick catches the slight tinge of pink at the tips of his ears. “You could’ve at least talked to me about it instead of surprising me with this betrayal.”

Patrick laughs, ignoring the glare David shoots him. “You’ll survive, I promise. I made sure everything fits your monochrome aesthetic, and there’s still a few of your lightweight sweaters at the bottom.”

He tries not to laugh again as David immediately starts digging through the suitcase. “Aha!” David cries victoriously as he holds up the two Patrick had left packed for him. He pulls out the rest of the t-shirts, too, squinting as he assesses them. “Fine,” David says finally, folding his sweaters and new t-shirts carefully on the bed.

“Does that mean my betrayal is forgiven?” Patrick asks, stepping closer.

“Only because it would be a waste to be mad at you for our whole honeymoon,” David answers. Patrick loves him when he’s aloof like this, when David feels so happy and loved he tries to deflect with his snark. Really, Patrick loves him all the time. He just loves David Rose, and that’s all there is to it, his insistence of wearing black sweaters in the burning hot sun included.

“Okay, David,” Patrick whispers, grabbing David by the waist and turning him so they’re face to face.

“Thank you for being practical,” David says.

Patrick gasps. “David Rose, are you saying I was right about the t-shirts?”

David’s face scrunches up, twisting in the way that sends Patrick’s heart fluttering. “Mm, no, I wouldn’t go that far,” he says. “But spending your honeymoon in the hospital when you could be lounging on a white sand beach is definitely not correct, so.” He smirks, levelling Patrick with a confident and pleased look. “And that’s Brewer-Rose to you,” David adds.

Patrick’s face splits into a grin. “Of course, my apologies. David  _ Brewer- _ Rose.” He kisses David, then, soft and slow and sweet.

David hums when their lips part, eyes a little dazed. “Just don’t forget it again. I don’t think my new husband would like people forgetting my married name.”

“Yes, sir,” Patrick says in a low voice. This time the kiss is faster, heated, and Patrick pushes David gently against the bed. He pulls away to whisper, “Is spending all day in bed on your honeymoon correct, do you think?”

David nods vehemently. “Oh, yes. Very correct.”

“Good,” Patrick says, pushing the suitcase off the bed with one hand and pushing David onto it with the other.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are appreciated 💖  
find me on tumblr and twitter @banesapothecary!


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